


Tree Angels

by jade_maiden_333



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, M/M, New York, White Christmas, boy next door, brownstones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_maiden_333/pseuds/jade_maiden_333
Summary: "Hope is but the dream of those who wake."  Matthew Prior





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Hope is but the dream of those who wake." Matthew Prior

From his apartment the lights in the tree looked like wings. Angel’s wings. The ornamental lights twisted and crept up the dormant branches and as the night stole the day, the lights took on an ethereal quality. They seemed to float outside his window. Cas hugged himself against the cold. Sitting there on the sill with the shutters thrown open he prefered watching the tree lights to an evening on the couch watching Christmas movies.

Outside the window snow settled on the thin ledge. Cas used the tips of his fingers to push the collection of flakes into mounds, studying the tiny makeshift snowballs before sending them tumbling over the ledge, landing soundlessly among the drifts abutting the sandstone building. When the ledge was clear, he pressed his chilled fingers into the palm of his hands until feeling sprang into them again. He focused on the sting, brushing wet hands off on the knees of his trousers.

His eyes went back to the tree angels and he thought about the apartment across the hall. His face flushed, reddening just remembering the encounter with his new neighbor, Dean. He had seen the man coming into the building as he was going out. The silhouette of broad shoulders and long bowed legs closing the distance in the corridor. He smiled as he passed, white, perfect teeth like a page torn from a toothpaste ad. Even in the shadows of the hallway Cas’ breath caught at the sight of eyes the color of glassy green waves. He thought--hoped--that he returned the smile, but the man was so beautiful he couldn’t be sure he did. The next thing he knew he was on the stoop, the wrought iron doors closing with aching finality behind him.

The next time he saw Dean, he screwed up his courage as he was coming home from work and Dean was standing on the stoop, talking to the old woman who lived in the apartment on Cas’ other side. He thought of what he might say. Something funny? Something witty? No, keep it simple. Say something about the weather, you can’t get that wrong. Dean looked briefly away from the old woman, catching Cas’ eye. Dean didn’t smile, but his eyes crinkled at the corners and in that second they glittered and danced and he was sure that it was the first time he’d ever seen someone smile with just their eyes.

He reached the stoop, his hand raised in a wave. The old woman turned, startled that Cas’ appeared seemingly out of nowhere and she almost fell from the step. Dean caught her by the arm, steadying the shaken woman. A car had pulled up and Dean smiled reassuringly at the woman, “Let me.” he offered. Dean looked at Cas, his eyes still smiling, but now shadowed with a hint of regret. Dean busied himself with putting the old lady into the car. The moment passed, and Cas pulled open the wrought iron doors going inside.

That was yesterday. Sitting on the window sill watching the tree angels, he was both anticipating and dreading the next time he and Dean might cross paths. What did he think was going to happen? They’d discover that they had a dozen things in common and hit it off? No. He was just a neighbor. A neighbor with dazzling eyes. A neighbor with dazzling eyes and a mouth that hurt his heart just to think about.

The room grew dark behind him, the lights of the tree casting an amber glow into the apartment. Cas let his eyes slip shut. He couldn’t see the lights anymore, but he felt them. Blood orange shadows played under his lids and he tried let thought slip from his mind. The winter chill subsided within him and the sounds of the city receded, a peaceful feeling settling on his shoulders like a warm blanket. A faraway noise echoed in the quiet of the apartment. Noise that he pushed away like pushing snow from a window sill. He heard it again, persistent. The echo drummed its way into the room, Cas becoming increasing aware of the sound of...knocking. On his apartment door.  
His eyes snapped open. Inhaling sharply, he scrambled from the sill, disoriented and cursing the way the cold permeated his body. He moved slowly, straightening and negotiating the furniture standing between him and the door. He flicked on the entryway light and peered through the peephole. He gasped, pulling away.

He pawed the deadbolt clumsily, throwing the lock back and yanking the door open before he could think to play it cool. He wasn’t cool. 

“Merry Christmas,” The other man announced. He held a bag of Chinese takeaway. He scowled, beautifully. “Novak, right? I saw your name on the mailboxes. I’m Dean.”


End file.
